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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/24964453">A Job For an Assassin</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/samworth/pseuds/samworth'>samworth</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Hogan's Heroes</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Gen, No Hogan, Short Story Speed Writing Challenge 2020</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-06-28</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-06-28</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-04 10:48:05</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>2,588</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/24964453</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/samworth/pseuds/samworth</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>With his outstanding performance as an assassin, Crittendon had commended himself for another important job. They relied on his night blindness and lack of marksmanship, but they had forgotten to consider his determination in combination with Klink. Or how Newkirk and LeBeau had to save Klink from the assassin they had hired. Written for the SSSW 2020. Crossposted.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>8</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>A Job For an Assassin</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Written for the SSSW 2020. Used lines in bold. Unbetaed.</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Crittendon paced along the wall. The civilian clothes couldn't hide his military attitude as he turned on his heel and faced Newkirk and LeBeau with an intensive stare. "Are you sure about the danger of that man?"</p><p>Newkirk nodded. "Yes, or we wouldn't have come to you, sir." In truth, it had been the other way around, Crittendon had somehow found his way back to them, but it wasn't necessary to tell him that.</p><p>"Well, what has to be done, has to be done." Crittendon nodded to himself. "Consider it done." He patted his chest pocket where he kept the picture of Colonel Schubert, his target. "It's as good as done." Out of reason only known to Crittendon, he had demanded a fez and long coat as his civilian attire. Not being able to argue with a British officer, LeBeau and Newkirk had dutifully gone out and bought everything on his shopping list.</p><p>LeBeau rubbed his hands together, hiding his smirk behind his hands. "We knew we could count on you, sir," he said aloud.</p><p>Newkirk didn't dare to look over, or he would lose his cool. It all depended on their ability to convince Crittendon that this assassination had to be done. "Good luck, Group Captain Crittendon," Newkirk said and smartly saluted.</p><p>"Right, you are a brave young man," Crittendon replied, saluted and marched off - straight to the door leading into the house and not out of the barn.</p><p>"Group captain!" LeBeau called out. "It would be better to take the shot from the outside."</p><p>"Right, of course," Crittendon marched over. "You don't have by any change a carrot? My night blindness had gotten a little worse over time."</p><p>A smile tugged at Newkirk's lips, but he forced his face to remain impassive. "No, sir. Haven't seen fresh fruit in a long time or I would have kept one for this reason alone." Crittendon didn't need to know that he wasn't supposed to hit anything, that this was the whole point.</p><p>"Good fellow," Crittendon said to Newkirk but patted LeBeau on the shoulder. "This is my lucky disguise. Clothed similar, I once -"</p><p>"Sir? The bar is closing soon and with it our window of opportunity," Newkirk dared to inject.</p><p>"Right. Don't worry," Crittendon said and pointed to himself, "Group Captain Crittendon has never refused an order and always got his man."</p><p>"Except if exceptional circumstances were encountered," LeBeau murmured loud enough to be heard by Crittendon. At least his hearing was still working.</p><p>"Except that." Crittendon took a deep breath and stormed outside.</p><p>Newkirk and LeBeau rushed to the door and looked after the group captain before closing the heavy door again. Leaning against the wooden frame, they broke out in laughter. "That went better as expected."</p>
<hr/><p>Colonel Wilhelm Klink nursed his beer while contemplating the general unfairness of the world. "And then he tried to marry me off to his sister," he told the barman who had stopped listening long ago.</p><p>As he had entered the bar, he had hoped for a nice evening with a beautiful lady. All her letters had been so beautiful and for once Klink had really believed that he had some luck. Perfume, a freshly cleaned uniform and some nice flowers, now laying uselessly besides him, he had done everything to ensure that he would have an extraordinary evening. He had even taken his staff car and drove it himself, so he would have all the time and privacy he could need.</p><p>But then he had been stood up.</p><p>"Women, huh?" a new voice spoke next to Klink. "Can't live with them but also not without them."</p><p>Klink stared at the newcomer with bleary eyes. Only one beer shouldn't hit him so hard. "I can live without them," he replied. "But they tend to come back."</p><p>The man snorted. "Colonel Robert Schubert," he introduced himself. "Like they say, all is fair in war and love."</p><p>Klink returned the favor and soon they talked about women, war and wine.</p><p>Two hours and three beers later, they were on first-name terms. "Did you know, Wilhelm," Colonel Robert Schubert said, "that -"</p><p>But he never got the chance to finish the sentence, as suddenly a shot rang out. After shattering the small window by the door, the bullet traveled further into the room. Missing narrowly two German colonels, it burst a bottle of the finest brandy from the bar in front of them.</p><p>Schubert threw himself down on the ground. Klink fell to the ground. His eyes widened and his monocle fell down. As he tried to fit it back in, he could only think about one thing: why did he have to go to town just this evening?</p>
<hr/><p>Hiding on the roof of a near factory, Newkirk and LeBeau watched in glee the chaos below them in the bar after Crittendon had taken his shot. As expected, the group captain hadn't hit his target. "You think Schubert is going to believe us now?"</p><p>"We may need to repeat this exercise a few times until he is ready to switch sides but sure," Newkirk agreed easily. That had been a simple mission. Now they just needed to get back in camp, preferable in the same way they had gotten out – hiding in Klink's staff car. But before they could climb down and get back into the car, they saw Klink running out of the bar.</p><p>"Where is he going?"</p><p>"I don't know," Newkirk answered. "I hope not -"</p><p>LeBeau cursed. "He's driving back without us."</p><p>They hadn't anticipated that Klink would in his panic flee the scene to drive back to camp as fast as possible. "Now we have to walk," Newkirk grumbled. "That's going to take the whole night, so we won't get any sleep."</p><p>LeBeau sighed in agreement. "We better get going."</p><p>They hadn't reached the ladder yet, as suddenly a figure below slunk past them. The person stuck to the wall but not clear of the small blaze that came from the bar, casting long shadows on the opposite wall. Despite the distortion, the shadows revealed the figure as a man holding a knife in his hand like a spoon. The fez gave Crittendon away but also added a strange aura to his shadows.</p><p>Following the movements of the shadow on the wall, Newkirk and LeBeau watched in dark fascination how Crittendon raised his hand to bring the knife down on Klink trying to open his car to climb into his it.</p><p>"Watch out," Newkirk called out. Both figures swirled around. The resulting screams echoed along the cobbled stone and bounced off the walls of the small alley. Later, Newkirk would have trouble to tell who screamed louder but surprisingly Klink reacted faster and hurled down the street while still screaming something.</p><p>A moment later, Crittendon sprinted after him.</p><p>Newkirk and LeBeau hurried along, following Klink and Crittendon's path across the roofs. A task made difficult by darkness and the speed of the Germans.</p><p>"Do you see them?" LeBeau asked out of breath as they both had to stop near a corner of the roof. Trying to jump across the gap would be suicide.</p><p>Below them the screams had vanished and left a thick silence. No footsteps, no sounds of moving, nothing interrupted the quiet.</p><p>"There," Newkirk whispered and pointed to the water meadow of the small river that ran through Hammelburg. The moon provided enough light to see Klink stumbling through the grass while Crittendon did move like - Newkirk narrowed his eyes - actually he didn't know how Crittendon moved except it looked like a robot dancing or a big gorilla trying to stalk through a street.</p><p>"Maybe it's one of his death moves?" LeBeau suggested, watching the same scene.</p><p>Suddenly, a loud splash followed by a muffled scream disrupted the eerily silence.</p><p>"And now <strong>he has fallen into the water,</strong>" Newkirk said unable to keep the astonishment out of his voice. Klink splashed with his arms, as if he couldn't swim. Maybe he couldn't, but Newkirk was sure that he had just to stand up, and he would be half-way out of the water.</p><p>"How did he managed that?" LeBeau asked but Newkirk could only silently shake his head.</p><p>"We need to get down," Newkirk concluded at the same time, LeBeau located the ladder. Fast and without an accident, they reached the ground. In the distance a police siren signaled the location of the bar but no sound indicated the location of either Klink or Crittendon.</p><p>"Where are they now?" LeBeau whispered and peered into the darkness only enlightened by the moonlight.</p><p>Tiptoeing to the next corner Newkirk peeked around. Light discipline prohibited street lamps but nobody could turn off the moon. It provided enough that they could make out Crittendon even in the distance. He crouched on the ground, staring in the general direction where Klink should be. What Crittendon lacked in skill, he made up in determination. And for once, they couldn't afford to let determination win.</p><p>"Do you see Klink?" Newkirk whispered. "Never mind," he continued as he spotted his target. The German colonel was climbing out of the river, blissfully unaware of how near Crittendon lurked in the shadows.</p><p>"We have to do something!"</p><p>"Yes, and what?"</p><p>"Anything. We can't have Crittendon kill Klink. We need him."</p><p>"Who?"</p><p>LeBeau paused. "Both, I guess. But mostly Klink."</p><p>A cloud moved in front of the moon, darkening the light enough to allow for a short reprieve as everybody held his position, waiting for the moon to light up the scene again.</p><p>"Maybe we should tell Crittendon that he's charging after the wrong German colonel?" LeBeau whispered as finally inspiration struck.</p><p>"He won't believe us. Besides, then Klink will see us."</p><p>"Klink is in panic. He doesn't see anything," LeBeau whispered back. "Well, maybe us but -"</p><p>"Damsel in distress."</p><p>"What?"</p><p>"Crittendon is a British officer. For him <strong>the nearest damsel in distress comes first</strong>."</p><p>"And where do we get one?"</p><p>Newkirk raised an eyebrow. For once, he couldn't do it. Crittendon's attention to his fellow British airman would sour Newkirk's chances that Crittendon wouldn't recognize him.</p><p>"No, that's -"</p><p>"Do you have a better idea?" Newkirk challenged LeBeau as the cloud moved away and the light returned.</p><p>Another splash sounded from the meadow. But it was only Klink who had lost his balance, again. While he climbed back to his feet, Crittendon drew nearer. For once silent and even somehow efficient. "Blimey," Newkirk cursed.</p><p>"No, I have no other idea," LeBeau said and sprinted across the street. He came to a halt near an old building built right next to the water meadow of the river. Squinting at the letter above the entry, Newkirk read the German word for library. From his new position LeBeau could see neither Klink nor Crittendon, but Newkirk could give him signals. LeBeau pressed himself into the entrance of the library. Big book cases filled up most of the space in front of the door, providing LeBeau with a good cover.</p><p>Klink hurried past, leaving a wet trail. If he didn't get lost on the way, Klink should be able to get back to his staff car and then back to the safety of his stalag.</p><p>As expected, Crittendon crept after Klink. Newkirk gave LeBeau the signal.</p><p>"Hello?" LeBeau called out, speaking in a voice two octaves higher. LeBeau had tied his scarf like a headscarf around his face and bend down as if he were searching for something. In the darkness of the house entry, between big boxes, the fact that he wasn't wearing a skirt, didn't matter.</p><p>Crittendon stopped and straightened up. "Ma'am?"</p><p>"Oh, dear, I can't find my keys. Would you mind helping me, please?"</p><p>"Of course not, ma'am!" Crittendon said and snapped to attention. "Group Captain Crittendon will find it for you."</p><p>Newkirk shook his head. "Blimey." Crittendon had hunted Klink half-way across the city, almost managed to get the drop of him twice, and then he was distracted by LeBeau speaking like a woman. A woman he couldn't even really see.</p><p>"Where did you lose it, ma'am?"</p><p>"Just in front of those boxes, young man."</p><p>Newkirk used the opportunity to sneak across the street just in time for Crittendon to turn around, right into Newkirk's fist. "<strong>Sorry about that, group captain,</strong>" Newkirk murmured as he caught the man with his fez he just had knocked out. "But we really need Klink alive." Together with LeBeau, he pushed Crittendon in the next open book case. Somehow in Germany they had book cases big enough to hide a man.</p><p>Having successfully thwarted off the assassination of Klink by Crittendon who was just supposed to scare Colonel Schubert into defection, both Newkirk and LeBeau ran back to camp. They didn't even need to say a word. It was a silent agreement to never talk about it again.</p><p>And hoping that Crittendon wouldn't remember any of it.</p>
<hr/><p>Klink was shaking from the wet and cold and maybe a little fear. But he preferred to think he was shaking in fury. The moment he had reached the safety of his camp, he had put all of his guards on alert, having them looking for the assassin who had tried to kill him.</p><p>"Colonel Klink, are you sure that it was an assassin?" Schultz asked while bringing him his hot milk. For a moment Klink had considered to position guards inside his bedroom, but then he had drawn the line, posting only Schultz in front of his door and five more guards outside of his window.</p><p>"<strong>I don't know what he was, but he was wearing a fez</strong>! I want you to shoot everybody who comes into my camp wearing a fez."</p><p>"Jawohl, Herr Kommandant," Schultz said not bothering to hide his doubt.</p><p>But this time, this time Klink knew what he had seen and nobody would tell him otherwise. It was only his determination and skill that had kept him alive. He shivered despite the warm bed covers.</p>
<hr/><p>"Well?" Kinch waited for them in the radio room, his arms crossed and despite that he was leaning against the wall in a relaxed posture everything about Kinch seemed tense.</p><p>"Went without a hitch," Newkirk reported, carefully avoiding looking at Kinch.</p><p>"Oui, everything went according to plan. Soon, Colonel Schubert is going to believe us that he has to defect to save his life."</p><p>Kinch narrowed his eyes. "And the reason why Colonel Klink came back in a panic, ordered guards around his quarters and has, according to Schultz, just escaped an assassin, is?" Kinch pushed himself away from the wall and uncrossed his arms. "Or why you two went out hiding in Klink's staff car and came back running?"</p><p>Newkirk stared at LeBeau and LeBeau stared back at him with the same wide open eyes. "Do you want the truth or a good story?" Newkirk finally dared to asked.</p><p>Kinch laughed out loud. "That better be a really good story. By the way, where's Crittendon?"</p><p>"Let's say it like this, <strong>he had to collect a suitcase full of books from a café in Ceuta</strong>." Newkirk smirked. He would tell a good story. A really good story about a British officer who for all his faults still possessed one virtue in never giving up and about a German colonel who was easily lured to a bar and dumped just as easily but somehow had still enough competence to stay alive despite being mistaken for the target of assassination.</p><p>Oh, Newkirk would tell a story. <strong>And loving it!</strong></p><p>
  <strong>The End</strong>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Thank you for reading!</p></blockquote></div></div>
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